


time to waste

by dmdys



Series: Fatally Yours [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut, i needed something happy and filthy okay?, kind of an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23988991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmdys/pseuds/dmdys
Summary: “You?” Alex asks, not meeting his eyes, pretending to fix something on the laptop.“Alex...”Alex just shrugs. His insecurities and abandonment issues kind of prevent him from thinking he could be enough for anyone. He can practically hear Michael roll his eyes.“No, Alex, I have not been sleeping with anyone else.”“I didn't mean-”“You gotta stop worrying.” Michael says, and his voice is soothing. It makes Alex feel like he's right there next to him. “I told you, we're gonna make this work. Endgame, remember?”
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Fatally Yours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729783
Comments: 25
Kudos: 188





	time to waste

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so after all the angst us poor Malex fans have endured recently, I wanted to write something semi-happy?
> 
> This is a sort of AU where I've played with the timeline. Alex and Michael are a couple, but Michael is still on active duty. This is before Alex loses his leg.
> 
> Title credit to Alkaline Trio ♥

“There...is that better?”

“It's blurry, but I can see you...”

“Wait, let me...okay...is that okay?”

“That's it!”

Alex sighs and falls back into the beat up armchair. He's so tired, and he only has one night of R&R before he's deployed again. He would much rather actually be seeing Michael in person, rather than a weak webcam.

“The Wi-Fi sucks in this place,” Alex says. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Michael says, a smile on his face. “As long as I can kinda make you out, it's all good.”

Alex gives a weak smile in return. It had been a last minute R&R offer, and he jumped at the chance of a proper bed and some privacy to talk to Michael, even just for a night. Stolen moments on the telephone and long, rambling emails about nothing just weren't cutting it lately.

“I miss you.”

Alex leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I miss you more.”

Michael shakes his head, curls bouncing. “Not possible.” The webcam screen glitches a little, then settles. 

“How's things?” Alex asks, fidgeting with the contrast. He wants to see Michael's eyes clearly. No, he _needs_ to.

Michael rolls his eyes. He hates small talk, but Alex knows he'll entertain it. “Same old. Isobel is organising something or other, Max and Liz just suck each others faces all the time,” he makes a grossed out face. “DiLuca is DiLuca. Same old, same old.” He shrugs, but smiles warmly at Alex through the camera. “Fuck, I miss you.”

Alex feels a tug in his chest. He really misses Michael, too. It's been three months since Alex was last home, but it feels more like three years. He'd give anything to be at home, fingers deep in those chocolate curls and legs tangled in a mess of bed sheets, but he knows that it's just three more months before he gets stationed back home. He just has to last three more months. Twelve weeks. Eighty-four days. Two thousand and sixteen hours. One hundred and twenty thousand, nine hundred and sixty minutes.

“Yeah.” Alex sniffs, not looking at the screen. “I miss you too.”

“Long distance sucks.” Michael adds, but he gives a soft chuckle to soften his words.

Alex just nods, still not looking up. It really does suck. They've been trying to make it work for almost a year now, after years of randomly hooking up whenever Alex was in town. Alex sometimes worries that Michael would get fed up, or a night of drinking would lead to a drunken liaison with some random at the Pony, but he's learning to trust. For once in his life, he's learning to trust someone other than himself. 

“Hey,” Michael says softly. “Hey, look at me.”

Alex raises his head. He lets out a laugh when he sees the pouty face Michael is making. “Dork,” he says, smirking. “Your hair's getting long.”

Michael blows out, making his curls float for a split-second. As they fall back over his eyes, he brushes them away and fidgets in his seat. They make more small talk for a short while; Alex tells him about his monotonous days, little anecdotes from his excursions. Michael talks about work, and how he really doesn't want to work on Wyatt Long's truck and what does he care if the racist bastard's break cables need replaced. 

“Where are you?” Alex asks after a while. The setting doesn't look like the Airstream.

“...your place.”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “The cabin?”

Michael's cheeks redden a little. “I'll pay for the window.”

Alex lets out a hearty laugh. “You broke into my cabin? Why?”

Michael shrugs, not meeting his eyes.

“You know, Maria has a key. You could have just asked.”

Another shrug.

“Michael?”

Michael sighs and shakes his head. “I missed you.” Yet another shrug. “I couldn't smell you any more.”

“Smell me?” Alex probes, his heart fluttering a little.

“Yeah,” Michael runs a hand through his messy curls, and leans back against what Alex can now see is his sofa. “You know,” he waves a hand. “Your smell, or whatever.”

“My smell. Okay...what do I smell like?”

“Aw, c'mon man,” Michael laughs. 

“Hey, you're the one who thinks I smell!”

“Not like that, dickwad,” Michael retorts. “Like, your natural musk.”

Alex can't hold back a chuckle. “My musk, huh?”

Michael nods, a cocky smile on his lips. “It's like...sand, and linen and just a little hint of cherry.” 

Alex's stomach flips. He knows Michael natural scent of gasoline, sweat, beer, and something Alex just can't put his finger on. He likes to think it's stardust. That's what he thought the first time he sat next to the Guerin boy in his father's tool shed, the first time he realised that maybe not every boy in their grade were like Kyle Valenti. He'd committed it to memory that very night. The idea that Michael might have done the same, well, that's something that had never crossed Alex's mind.

“I miss your smell, too.”

“Yeah?” 

Alex nods. “I never thought I'd ever miss the smell of gasoline, but here we are!” 

They both laugh, then settle back to just look at one another. 

“You look tired,” Michael says, and Alex nods.

“A bit, yeah.” He looks over to the motel bed. It doesn't look very comfortable, but it's better than his cot at the local base. “I haven't been sleeping well.”

“Aw, you just miss waking up to this beautiful face.” 

Alex sighs. “I really do.”

He hadn't meant to sound so serious, but he really, really misses waking up to a face of greasy curls and the feel of Michael's body pressed against his. He misses being woke up by kisses over his chest, the soft tickle of fingertips across his hips and thighs.

“Nah, you just miss the sex,” Michael says jokingly, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Alex chuckles. “Well, that too.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “So, you're not seeing anyone...”

“How many times do we need to go over this?” Alex asks tiredly.

“I know, I know,” Michael holds his hands up. “You've only got eyes for this,” he indicates his body. “You only like the chiselled perfection of a cosmic God, I know.”

The thing is, Alex thinks, it's true. He really does only have eyes for Michael Guerin. He's been all over the world and no one could hold a candle to that stupid genius. No one has ever got under his skin like Michael has.

“You?” Alex asks, not meeting his eyes, pretending to fix something on the laptop.

“Alex...”

Alex just shrugs. His insecurities and abandonment issues kind of prevent him from thinking he could be enough for anyone. He can practically hear Michael roll his eyes.

“No, Alex, I have not been sleeping with anyone else.”

“I didn't mean-”

“You gotta stop worrying.” Michael says, and his voice is soothing. It makes Alex feel like he's right there next to him. “I told you, we're gonna make this work. Endgame, remember?”

Alex looks up and meets his lover's eyes. “I love you.”

Michael grins. “I love _you_.”

They sit in silence, just staring at each other. Alex's stomach twists. He's still not used to hearing those words. He's still not entirely sure they're true, but he's trying so hard to believe. He's trying to trust. It's still difficult to understand that Michael is _his_. No one else gets to have him. His body, his heart, his soul is for Alex and Alex only. It's almost unbelievable. 

“Okay,” Michael speaks up. “I hate silence. Get to the cam show.”

Alex splutters, almost choking.

“Woah, I'm just kidding!”

Alex rubs his throat. _Well..._ he thinks. It's been months since they'd been together, and it would help him sleep...

Without a word, Alex slinks back a little, biting his lip. He slowly slips a hand down his stomach and toys with the waistband. 

Michael furrows his brow. “Wha-” he cuts himself off. “Oh.” He raises his eyebrows. “ _Ohhh._ ”

Alex meets his eyes, and pushes his hand into his pants. He's slow about, careful and gentle. He tries to mimic the way Michael touches him.

“God, I wish you were here,” he breathes as he skirts his finger tips through the patch of soft curls above his hardening dick. He wraps his hand around himself with a sturdy grip, grunting a little.

“Oh _God_ ,” Michael says breathlessly. “Fuck, Alex...”

Alex stays silent and slowly works himself. He keeps his eyes on Michael, who's eyes are wide hungry.

“Pants down,” Michael says, and he fumbles with his own belt, trying to pull his own pants down as quickly as possible.

Alex uses his free hand to tug his sweat pants down. He doesn't take them off, just pushes them low enough to pull his cock out. He's harder than he realises, and he slowly moves his hand up and down, gently but tightly. Michael is staring at him, now sitting in his boxer shorts, one hand moving beneath the fabric.

“Fuuuuuckkkk....” Michael mutters.

Alex doesn't speak, eyes on Michael. He takes his free hand and cups his balls, letting out a little grunt, which Michael echoes. He raises his hips a little, moving his hands and thrusting gently. He runs his thumb over the tip, putting a little pressure to the oh-so-sensitive hole, spreading pre-cum down the shaft. 

“Alex...” Michael breathes, his hand moving more rapidly. He hasn't pulled himself out, isn't visible to Alex, but somehow the sight of him touching himself beneath this blue striped boxers is really doing it for Alex.

“I don't think I'll...uh...last long....” Alex finally says.

Michael gives a shaky laugh. “Me too.” He licks his lips. “Can you...uh...take your shirt off?”

Alex nods, and keeping one hand on his cock, pulls his shirt over his head. His skin is sun-kissed more than usual, making his natural skin tone a little deeper. He runs a hand along his chest before reaching back to hold the back of the armchair. He bucks softly and quickly into his hand, breathing deeply and loudly. Michael's mouth is open, eyes flitting between Alex's face and his dick. 

“Michael...” Alex breathes.

“Yeah?”

“I'm...” He swallows.

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says, a starving look in his eyes. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Oh God...”

“Cum on your chest, Alex. Do it. Do it!”

There's something about being ordered to do something that Alex hits so deep that he couldn't hold back even if he wanted to. With a low keening sound, Alex spills himself, hot and wet, on his stomach and chest. He keeps his hand working, simmering down, eyes closed. He can hear Michael making little sounds, almost whining, but the fireworks going off in his loins need to be rode out, and he keeps his hips moving, working through his orgasm. When he finally opens his eyes, Michael is panting, hand now still under his shorts which are also now sporting a wet patch.

They both just look at each other, blinking, breathless, and unable to speak. Michael pulls his hand free and wipes it on his shorts.

“Don't you dare stain that sofa,” Alex says at last, and Michael lets out a loud laugh. 

He looks down at himself and tuts. “What a mess.”

“You're a messy boy,” Michael smiles.

“I'm gonna, uh, clean up,” Alex says, then pauses and thinks for a minute. “Hey, can I call you back in ten minutes?”

Michael looks confused. “I can just wait for you-”

“No,” Alex says, and he pulls up his sweat pants. “Go get cleaned up and get into bed, and I'll call you back, okay?”

Michael jerks his head back a little. “Uh, okay?”

Without another word, Alex closes his laptop and gets to his feet. He's quick with his movements, spending less than a minute under the lukewarm shower, rushing to brush his teeth and take a piss. He pulls on a clean pair of shorts, switches off the ceiling light and grabs his laptop before climbing into bed. It's more comfortable than he'd expected, and the fresh sheets remind him of home. He gets comfortable, lying on his side, then opens the laptop. He awkwardly drags the mouse to hover over Michael's name in the chat app, and double clicks.

It only takes a few seconds for Michael to answer. He's hard to make out, a candle flicking behind him on the bedside table. 

“Hi,” Alex breathes.

“Can you see me?”

“Mhm.”

“Someone sounds sleepy.” 

Alex smiles. “I am.”

“My sleepy boy.”

Alex's stomach does a small, warm cartwheel. 

“I should let you go-”

“No,” Alex interupts. “I wanna sleep with you tonight.”

Michael cocks an eyebrow. “So, cyber sex _and_ spending the night? Phew, this is getting serious.”

Alex nods, the pillow soft against his cheek. “I miss your snoring.”

“I do not snore,” Michael huffs, but he slides down a little more, moving the laptop so Alex could see he was in his bed, his sheets around him. Something about seeing Michael in his bed made Alex feel both warm and sad; he would give anything to be there, arms around that stupid curly haired genius with the ridiculous body.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Michael says soothingly. “I'm right here.”

Alex nods. “I love you.”

Michael lets out a breath. “Love you more. Endgame, remember?"

Alex smiles. "Mhmm. Endgame..."

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a short prequel and a sequel for this planned, but it depends how well this is received. I spent all day working on this (I'm surprised I managed to finish and edit it, because I swear, I have not had a moment's peace!) and I apologise for any inaccuracies or grammar/spelling mistakes.


End file.
